


Out of Place

by Nabielka



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe Travel, M/M, Outsider POV of Dimension Travel, Pet Laurent (Captive Prince), Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:41:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25512265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nabielka/pseuds/Nabielka
Summary: Auguste had thought he’d trained Laurent well. Pet AU.
Relationships: Auguste/Laurent (Captive Prince)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19
Collections: Rare Male Slash Exchange 2020





	Out of Place

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HandmaidenOfHorror](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HandmaidenOfHorror/gifts).



“As such, if the Crown raises the tariff on Akielon cloth like I’ve projected, we may over the coming year expect an increase of seven percent coming into the treasury from that industry.” Jeurre’s nephew ended his proposal. Next to him, Jeurre was near beaming with pride. 

Next to Auguste himself, Laurent was frowning. 

Herode was missing, having gone to Alier, and without asking for permission, Laurent had sat himself in his empty seat at Auguste’s side with the full air of one to whom such place belonged. Auguste, who had walked to the Council chamber with Jeurre and his nephew, trying to set him at ease, had avoided the embarrassment of commenting on this by ignoring it. The Councillors, not wanting the appearance of challenging Auguste, had limited themselves to surprised glances. 

Worse yet, now he spoke, “You clearly know very little about the cloth industry.” Laurent himself could hardly know much himself, though Auguste kept him in fine silks and had just that summer commissioned him half a wardrobe cut to a series of styles presented to him by a particularly enterprising merchant, designed in such a way as to allow Auguste easier access. “If we raise the tariff so, it is exceedingly likely that the revenues will fall, as you would know well had you ever so much as talked to a cloth merchant operating on the border. Many will switch to Patran cloth, which may be less fine, but at least it comes already dyed; others will pretend to, in order to evade the tariff, given that much of our Patran trade comes through Akielos – though listening to you, one would believe we had but one border. Perhaps the Councillor could provide you with a map?” This last was to Jeurre, who looked as discomposed, if less pink, than his nephew. 

Had Laurent been kneeling in his usual position, Auguste would have long since put a hand in his hair to hold him quiet. He wondered if Laurent had planned this, had walked into the Council chamber with the express purpose of humiliating Auguste in this way. He had not been ungenerous, indeed he had been understanding, for no other pets were allowed in the Council meetings. He listened to Laurent’s opinions in private; in public he listened to the swirl of Laurent’s tongue or to the movement of his hand, by which he allowed Laurent to provide the counsel he could not take openly. 

Audin, keen to succour Jeurre, with whom he was in the process of conducting some negotiations for the transfer of lands, to be sealed by a family wedding if they could only decide on the spouses, said, “Perhaps Your Majesty’s pet is in need of a spanking.”

Audin frequented the pets’ ring too often; he forgot himself. The suggestions one could make to the masters who put their pets to fight and be mounted, whom he outranked by the his medallion, went beyond those one could make to one’s king. Even if one was a Councillor. 

Laurent himself had the look of one who had already been struck, though not in the place Audin had proposed. His cheeks were blotched pink. 

Chelaut looked considering, a frown across his face. Jeurre’s smile, though faint, had returned. His nephew had sat up straighter, his eyes fixed on Laurent. 

They expected him put in his place. Auguste was not so unaware that his reign, with the loss of Delfeur, was not so strong as his father’s had been. He was not unaware that being unmarried, he had yet no heir, and that it did not speak to his benefit that out of sentiment, he had allowed his pet, who could claim by birth despite his position an interest in the throne, access to such meetings at all. 

It was not so large a room, being intended for close meetings and not grand spectacles of state. Auguste reached across and pulled Laurent towards him. 

He did not come gracefully, which brought Auguste consternation. It was not so much a struggle as the reaction of someone accosted by surprise. Didn’t Laurent see that this too was playing to the court, of which these men were the pillars? If he had acted as to showcase his intelligence and breeding over the pets the Councillors could obtain, it fell in turn to Auguste to demonstrate that his own power remained unaffected. 

The tailors had served his instructions well, for while Auguste’s main use of the design was the easier flap allowing for more discreet mounting, it was but a flick of his hand and a tug to expose Laurent’s backside, much less than the unwinding he himself had to endure to undress. The marks he had left last time had faded entirely; perhaps it had been too long. 

Laurent was tense in his lap, bracing for the blow as was usual. For all that, when the first stroke came, he reacted as though it were the first time he had ever been struck at all. 

“Thank you for your most illuminative presentation,” said Auguste, not addressing himself to Laurent’s interruption at all, though his own words came punctuated by the move of his hand. “We will certainly take it under advisement when considering the upcoming negotiations.”

Jeurre’s nephew dragged his eyes to Auguste with difficulty. His expression of pleasure was fairly vacant, as though he knew that he ought to feel delight but could not quite connect with the feeling. Of evidently more immediate interest than the advancement of his career was watching Auguste’s hand fall, the pink marks left across Laurent’s buttocks. 

Auguste could admit to some sympathy, for when he had first acquired Laurent’s service, it had seemed more onerous than could be borne to take his hands off him, for though the pleasures of a king were immense, the duties that fell upon him could feel overpowering. The skin that had suffered his blows was heated now to the touch, and Laurent’s jerks against him were inspiring his body to demanding of Laurent the type of service that did not befit a king in public. 

“Considering these negotiations, Councillor Chelaut – have you any new intelligence on whom we can expect from the Akielons? I understand that King Theomedes is still ailing and therefore likely – ” Laurent’s neckline had slipped down to reveal part of his shoulder. “We may expect Damianos.”

His last words felt a little faint, though he rallied. The Council presumably would make no note of it and if so, would ascribe it to all manner of causes: the prospect of Damianos as a more giving negotiator, the unwelcome prospect of facing him again across a field, exertion from the strokes he was giving Laurent as he spoke, though that could hardly be flattering to his stamina.

But it was not at all that. Laurent’s shoulder, part revealed, revealed scar tissue. Auguste had seen him fully naked but the previous night and had noted it not at all. It was not bandaged, nor was it obviously fresh – and Auguste had had occasion to observe the colour of fresh wounds upon his own body. Nor could Laurent have any justifiable cause for injury at all, for Auguste had long taken him off arms training, and if any had raised a blade to him, he would know it was his duty to report him to face such swift justice as would befall any who dared raise a hand to touch what was his. 

For his councillors’ presence, he rallied, but his mind remained all awhirl and for once it was for a different reason that he wished to take Laurent off to his chambers.


End file.
